


Ghost of Thornton Hall - A Rewrite

by madsj



Category: Nancy Drew (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27945698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsj/pseuds/madsj
Summary: A rewrite of the 2013 video game. This is how I thought it was going to go.
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

October 1867. Georgia.

Charlotte moved through the crowd of people, apologizing for those she cut off with her large dress. The people danced and cheered, wishing her blessings for the new year. She quickly thanked them as she continued through the hall, pushing her way past, trying to get to the large doors at the end. She knew her mother was in the kitchen, scolding one of the servants for not doing something right, but now she needed to talk to her. She clenched the letter in her hand and pushed through the large doors, then down the hallway to a smaller set of doors.

As she had expected. The house servants were working without breaks, and sure enough, her mother Sarah Emma was yelling at her, pointing at a dish that she believed to be undercooked. She didn’t change her ways since she had to start paying the people working in the house. Charlotte just chose to avoid them.

Sarah Emma looked up from the servant and her face melted into a small smile. “Charlotte, darling. Why aren’t you with your guests?”

“Mother. I was hoping to speak with you.” She eyed the servants continuing to cook. “Alone.”

Sarah Emma raised an eyebrow. “Dear, what’s troubling you?”

“Alone, mother. I won’t speak of this in front of them.” Sarah Emma nodded, and the servants left the kitchen one by one.

“Now that they’re gone, will you tell me what’s on your mind?”

“Mother, I…” she looked towards the ground and the paper in her hands. “What is this?” She handed her the paper and watched as her mother’s face changed. 

“What is this, Charlotte?” Her tone was no longer friendly. It was flat. Angry. Fiery almost. 

“I was hoping you could tell me. Father wouldn’t give me an answer. Nor would auntie. I asked around, and was told to come to you.”

“There’s so much you need to learn in order to understand this.” She placed the letter down on the counter. “And even then, I’m not sure you would understand.”

“Then try to explain.” She couldn’t keep her voice from shaking, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off of the letter. The words almost seemed to dance off the page. “What does this mean? What did you do?”

“I did nothing except protect our family and protect our livelihood. I did nothing but protect you.”

“How was this protecting me? This…. this…”

“You would never understand, Charlotte. Your mind is too caught up with everything. You need to—”

“How could you do this, mother? I… I…. I can’t believe this.” She thought about what she could do. Run away, marry someone else rich, change her last name, and be free of the Thornton family forever. She took a step towards her mother, keeping her eyes on the letter.

“Darling, Family is the most important thing to me. I would do anything to protect the Thornton name. That is the only reason that I—”

“Just stop! I can’t take it anymore.” She tried to grab the letter, but Sarah Emma grabbed her wrist. The force of the grasp burned on Charlotte’s skin. “The whole world is going to know what you did. You won’t get away with this.”

“No one will ever know. There won’t be any proof.”

Before Charlotte could react, her mother lit a match and set the letter on fire. The fire from the letter spread through the cooking oil, and soon the flames began to engulf the table. 

“What have you done?!” Charlotte cried. Her mother’s eyes darted around the room quickly, finding the door. She pushed past Charlotte as the flames spread to the floor and to the cabinets and counters. Sarah Emma ran out the door, but as soon as Charlotte reached it, she realized in horror that the door wouldn’t budge. She pushed, pushed, pushed, but it wouldn’t move an inch. 

She turned around to see the whole kitchen engulfed in flames. Surely, someone would come to save her. Someone would realize that the girl of honor at the party happening down the hall was missing. Someone would then come to the kitchen, hear her pleas for help, and free her. 

That had to be it, right?

The fire reached Charlotte. Her dress, cotton, of course, more than welcomed the tongues of fire. She felt the heat, the scorching, the fear.

As the flames engulfed her, she hoped that someone, anyone, would hear her. 


	2. Chapter 2

River Heights, present day.

Nancy woke with a start as her phone buzzed and fell off the nightstand. She picked it up and mumbled a hello to whoever was on the other line. 

“Nancy. It’s Savannah Woodham. We spoke in Japan.” She knew the southern drawl on the other line sounded familiar. 

“Savannah. What’s so interesting at…” she checked the time on her phone. “Three in the morning?”

“It’s an emergency, Nancy. A girl is missing.”

“Why can’t the cops deal with it? It’s three in the morning.”

“The cops ain’t doing anything about it. They don’t believe she’s in danger.”

“Why aren’t you going to deal with it?”

“Well, I…. I…” she paused. Nancy tried not to close her eyes and fall back asleep. “I’m scared, Nancy. Blackrock Island doesn’t belong to the living anymore.”

“You’re a paranormal investigator.”

“I can’t go. You have to go. You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

Nancy pretended to think it over for a moment, but she knew her answer from the moment she heard the voice on the other end of the line. “Yeah. Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Nancy. It means the world to me.”

~~~

The flights took the whole day, so by the time she reached the island, the sky was dreary with grey and clouds.

“Be careful, girl,” the ferryman warned as he pulled up to the dock. “The Thornton family earned their bad reputation.”

“What reputation?”

“That family has its share of problems. Got that loony bin Harper. And be careful of Wade.”

Before she could ask him to elaborate, he pulled in and motioned for her to leave. She picked up her bags and walked onto the solid ground of Blackrock Island.

The path to the main house was long and shrouded over with trees. To her left, a trellis covered in vines crawled along the length of the path. To her right, she saw gravestones through a wrought iron gate. She walked towards the house, hoping to speak with the woman that Savannah told her about: Clara.

She stepped onto the rotting staircase, and a voice startled her.

“Jessalyn?”

“No, it’s me, Nancy.”

A blond man stood on the edge of the porch, warily watching Nancy’s every move as she stepped closer to greet him. He wore a blue blazer over a blue sweater with a collar sticking out, as well as khakis and a pair of sensible shoes. He nodded his head.

“I’m Colton. The fiancé.”

“Nice to meet you, Colton. I was asked to come here to find Jessalyn.”

“And I thank you for that. I’m sorry for my curt behavior, it’s just...” He shook his head and sighed. “She’s been gone for a few days now, and I’m worried.”

“Do you think it’s cold feet?” She knew it wasn’t the most sensitive question, but it was worth a shot.

“There’s no way. She was so ready to get married, so ready to be together. She wouldn’t just walk away from it.”

Nancy nodded her head. Of course he would say that. She decided to rapidly change the subject, as was one of her best conversational skills. “Does she have any enemies?”

“Jessie? Not that I know of. She’s always been so kind. Always fighting for the truth.” He stopped for a moment. “She writes for the paper. Investigative journaling. Maybe someone that she investigated didn’t like what she uncovered.”

“Who had she written about recently?”

“She always had lots of projects she was working on. I know recently she was looking at antebellum and post-Civil War connections to this island. I can try and find what she was writing.”

“Great, thanks! Well, I’ll see you later.” She praised herself in her head on how well she steered the conversation and ended it so smoothly.

She opened the front door to the house and walked inside. She walked upstairs to unroll her sleeping bag and set up her living space. She had found herself a book on the history of Blackrock Island, and Savannah gave her a copy of the book she had started about the Thorntons but never finished. They would make excellent bedtime reading material.

Paintings lined the walls of the upstairs, and even the downstairs as she went to find more people to talk to. They were family members, she had assumed, but couldn’t tell the year on some of them. Hiriam, Charlotte, Sarah Emma, Jackson… all painted portraits with no date. She noticed one that looked a bit more modern, based on the clothing. It was entitled “Clara Thornton.” She recognized the name as one that Savannah told her, and noticed a spot in the corner. She would have to find some turpentine to deface it.

She walked into the front room and saw a woman standing in a pink dress with a matching blazer over it. She walked up and began to introduce herself to the powerful looking woman, who cut her off.

“You must be Nancy. I’m not one for hiring personal investigators, but Savannah insisted you help. Welcome to the search party.”

“Search party? I thought the police weren’t here.”

“They’re not. I’ve got people from the company working night and day to help find my Jessie.” She nodded at Nancy, but didn’t extend a hand. “I’m Clara, Jessalyn’s mother. The matriarch of the family.”

“Nice to meet you, Clara. I’m happy to help out in whatever way that I can.” Again, with deftness and grace, she quickly spun the topic. “Did Jessalyn have cold feet about the wedding?”

“I don’t think so. She kept telling me how ready she was. The whole week before she disappeared, she seemed to want nothing more than being married to Colton. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she wanted to leave the Thornton name.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, she just constantly talked about the wedding. Talked about how she loved the sound of Jessalyn Birchfield. How she loved his family. How she loved him.” She shook her head. “We had a fight two days before she disappeared. I can’t even remember much about it.”

Nancy thought that was suspicious. She decided to press further. “What do you remember about the fight?”

“Oh, same old mother daughter pre-wedding fights. I remember her insisting on the guest list and how the invitations and RSVPs were already sent out. From there it blew up.”

“Blew up?”

“She was mad. I was mad. We both said some pretty horrible things to each other.”

“What did you say to each other?” She imagined patting herself on the back for a great question that would in no way be offensive.

“Like I said, I don’t remember much about it.”

Nancy could tell she was hiding something, but decided to wait to pry further. “What do you know about the disappearance so far?”

“It’s been four days. No trace, no note, no nothing. I can’t believe it, but I’m hoping for a ransom note, just so we know she’s alive.”

“Is there anyone who would want Jessalyn out of the picture?”

“Course not. Anyone who ever meets her loves her. I just don’t know why they’re doing this to our family.”

“See you later!” She turned away from Clara and took note of the room.

First, she looked at the fireplace. On the mantle lay a book about female spies in the Civil War:  _ Espionage in a Bonnet _ . She opened it up and scanned two random pages. Interesting, she thought. She’d have to check it again later. She put the book down, and as she did, thought she saw an etching appear on the mantle. When she blinked, it quickly disappeared.

She turned towards the door and saw a table with a teapot on it. Jackpot, she thought, pouring herself a cup of tea with spoonfuls of sugar. She also took a napkin, since it could probably be of use. She also took a dozen oranges. She liked her vitamin C. 

Nancy walked back outside, hoping to take a look at the graveyard. As she opened the gate and closed it shut behind her, she heard a voice yelling.

“Hey, you!”


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, you!” Nancy heard footsteps and the voice grow closer. “There ain’t no tourists allowed on the island today!”

“I’m not a tourist!” She shouted back. A man in a leather jacket appeared through the fog.

“Are you a Birchfield?” He asked, motioning towards her hair.

“No, I was sent to help find Jessalyn.”

“And who sent you? There ain’t no way Clara would ask an outsider to come out here.”

“Savannah. Savannah Woodham. She’s—”

The name seemed to soften his face a bit. “I know Savannah. I’m sorry about the way I acted. There’s just a lot going on the last few days. I’m Wade.” He brushed his hand off on his pants and shook Nancy’s hand.

“Nice to meet you Wade. I’m Nancy.”

“Before I forget, you got a package from Savannah. So how’d you get to know Savannah?”

“I’m something of an amateur detective. I worked with her a few years ago on a case about a haunted Ryokan. She helped a lot with discovering the source of the fake ghosts!”

“Fake ghosts, huh?” Wade chuckled. “You better be prepared, girl. This island don’t belong to the living anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. The spirits own this place. They decide what to do with it. They decide how things work. They decide who lives and dies here.”

“Did they take Jessalyn?”

“They might have. There ain’t no reason not to believe that there was something more supernatural in her disappearance. No trace of anything. She just… vanished.”

“I’m more skeptical about ghosts, Wade.”

“I didn’t say you had to believe. I’m just telling you that’s the way it is. Blackrock Island is home to hundreds of souls. Take a look at this.” He pulled a small device from his pocket. “This here is an EMF reader. Listen.” He pushed the button on top, and Nancy heard a whirring noise, and then something that sounded like a whisper. She thought she could make out a name, but couldn’t quite place it.

“Those can be faked. At the Ryokan—”

“The Ryokan was a different story. You can feel the spirits here. The family, the factory workers… if you have questions about the tombstones you can ask. But it’d be good of you to know… there ain’t no hoax.”

She backed down. “How are you related to Jessalyn?”

“I’m her uncle. Not that she ever cared. Clara didn’t let us see her. Just family get togethers. And even then, she told us to stay away.”

“Us? Who’s us? Are you married?”

“Almost, once. But no. I mean Harper. My other cousin. Jessalyn’s auntie.”

“Why weren’t you able to see her?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions, Nancy. I don’t have the answers to all of them. You’d have to talk to my dear cousin Clara about that one.”

“It sounds like you and Clara have some tension.”

“It wouldn’t take no detective to figure that one out.”

“Ok. See you later, Wade!”

She turned to look at the tombstones and read the epitaphs.

_ Rosalie Thornton. May she rest always at peace. _

_ Ruby Thornton. A spark at birth. A flame in life. A quiet ember in the night. _

_ May Newton. Died January 13, 1933. _

_ Harper Thornton. Lost and Dearly Missed. _

_ Lee Thornton. 1915-1975. _

_ Virginia Thornton. Gone, never forgotten. _

_ Luther Atchinson. So it goes. _

_ Charlotte Thornton 1843-1867. Dear sweet Charlotte, Please come back. _

_ Sarah Emma Thornton 1820-1901. May she find her voice once more. _

_ Beauregard Thornton B: 1896 D: 1935. _

_ Roger Drummonds Thornton B.1943 D. 1984 Side by side from the day they married… _

_ Marianna Thornton B. 1945 D: 1984 To the day they died _

Some epitaphs were beautiful. Some more melancholy. Wade added commentary, adding information about the family tree and what some of them were like. Harper, for example, wasn’t dead. She disappeared for a while, but never died. Beauregard, he noted, was a mean old codger. Nancy took note of the four colored squares on his tombstone. 

Well, it looked like she wouldn’t get any farther here. The crypt was locked, and ivy covered like a wall near the back of the graveyard. As she walked away, she thought she heard the statue of Charlotte turn its head…

That’s impossible, she thought. Ghosts aren’t real. Then again, she couldn’t stop thinking about how powerful Wade’s beliefs seemed to be. Sure, she was skeptical, but something about this place made her start to doubt her own beliefs. 

~~~

Back in Nancy’s room, she opened the package that Savannah sent her way. Inside lay an EMF reader just like Wade’s, but also a book:  _ The Ghost of Thornton Hall _ . She flipped through the pages, reading about Savannah’s encounter with the ghost. Nancy hadn’t seen it for herself yet, aside from whatever movement she saw out of the corner of her eye or heard in the back of her head, but she tried to keep an open mind about the words on the page. 

She was glad about that once she turned around. There, at the end of the hall, was a woman. She was young — had to have been in her 20’s. She wore a red ball gown that cascaded outwards. Her hair was pinned back, and her face donned a black mask. She looked just like the woman on the cover of the book. 

Charlotte?

She couldn’t have been real, there was no way. Ghosts aren’t real, Nancy said to herself over and over again as the woman slowly made her way towards Nancy. She backed up, hitting the table with the book on it.

Then, just as quickly as the woman appeared, she disappeared. 

Nancy hated to admit it to herself, but there was no way that was… human. No human could appear and disappear like that. Plus, and she wasn’t sure about this, but she seemed… translucent.

Was it… a ghost?


End file.
